


The One Where Tweek Gets An Enema

by PBJellie



Series: South Park Kink Meme Requests [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Enemas, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, South Park Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 08:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14052963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PBJellie/pseuds/PBJellie
Summary: As the title reads, Tweek gets an enema.Written for the South Park Kink Meme.





	The One Where Tweek Gets An Enema

"This kind has vegetables," Tweek held a box of pasta, some abomination of spirals in shades of green and orange. The box rattled the tiniest bit in his hands, a gentle tremor passing through his hands.

"Just the regular kind," Craig rolled his eyes, ripping the box out of Tweek's hands. "Please? Can't I have this one nice thing?"

"You have p-plenty of nice things, Craig," Tweek pouted, taking the pasta back, this time placing it in the cart. "I am a nice thing."

"You sure are," he giggled lowly, reaching his hand for Tweek's ass. It's not like there was a crowd at the store, but his hand was swatted away, anyway. "So nice, nice enough to let me have real pasta."

"Half and half?" Tweek bargained, reaching for a box of plain penne. "So every other bite is good for you?" He didn't wait for an answer, he just tossed it into the cart.

"You're lucky I love you," Craig joked.

"Am I?" Tweek fired back, crows feet wrinkling as he smiled.

"A man's pasta is his sanctuary."

"So were the snack cakes, and the cheddar cheese, and the soda," Tweek teased, rubbing Craig's hand as they strolled through the isles. "You can only have so many sanctuaries."

Tweek was still smiling when Craig whispered something about bastions of American freedom. He steered the cart away from Craig, down an isle in the pharmacy. Craig sighed as he glanced at the vitamins. Tweek was better, right? He wasn't clinging to last ditch efforts of double doses of B12 to make his head livable.

"What are you getting?" Craig asked, collapsing onto the cart, elbows propping up his body.

"Don't be noisy," Tweek snapped.

"Then just tell me," he sighed.

"The doctor said I need it," he said, body shielding the shelf.

"Then you can tell me what it is," he pushed, chin tilting upward in his hands, "if the doctor said it."

"An enema!" He threw his hands over his face. "I need a fucking enema! Are you happy?"

"I mean, we are having a nice time, don't you think?" Craig asked, watching Tweek browse the products.

"I-, maybe?" He stammered, eyes coasting along the row of boxes. His eyes temporarily closed, squeezing shut as he took in a deep breath. "Gah! Stop staring!"

"It's just an enema," Craig smiled, leaving the cart and snaking a hand around Tweek's waist. 

"Haven't you ever had one?"

"No!" He shouted, jumping a bit in his spot. "I'm not-, I haven't, God damn it, Craig!"

  
“Seriously,” he placed his hand on his stomach, letting it rise and fall with his laughter. “Not even once?”    
  
“No!” He shrieked. His head turned frantically, blonde hair whipping into a frenzy as he looked for other people. No one else was in the isle. It’s not like they were closeted. “Does your medication keep you from shitting? That wasn’t a side effect from the blood pressure stuff you’ve ever complained about.”    
  
“Hah,” Craig laughed again, belly still bouncing, “no. College. Freshman year, you sent me a text saying you were going eat my ass over the break. I just wanted to make sure. Wanted it to be a good experience.”    
  
“God! You can’t just talk about eating ass in public!” Tweek shouted, much louder than the original statement. A woman passing with her basket turned to see him, hands in the air, shouting as he looked at his husband. She just shook her head, and continued strolling down the aisle.    
  
“Not like it’s illegal,” Craig snorted, trying to hold back his laughter. Blindly, Tweek reached for a box, tossing it into the cart while staring at the ground. “Grab me one. We can do them together.”    
  
“Such a fucking freak,” he muttered, face red as he pulled another off of the shelf.    
  
“Wouldn’t have stuck around for thirty years, if it didn’t drive you wild,” Craig whispered, leaning into Tweek as he peeled out towards the checkout, muttering about being done with the store, done with this nonsense.    
  
“Ten is awfully young to start from, Craig,” Tweek chided as they waited in the only available checkout. 

**** Well, there was another lane open, but it was manned by Kenny. Craig wasn’t so opposed to the idea of letting their old friend scan them out, maybe he’d give them a discount. But, as soon as he tried to steer the cart down that lane, Tweek yanked the handle out of his grip, racing towards the other end of the store, towards the only other available checkout.    
  
“Apparently enemas are a sex thing,” Tweek whispered, not that he had ever fully mastered the whisper. Craig smiled at the young couple in front of them, as they turned to stare. “Kenny doesn’t need to see that. It’s not his business.”    
  
“But it can be this teenager’s business?” Craig smirked, eyebrow jutting upward.    
  
“Yes! I mean, no, of course not,” Tweek worked his teeth over his bottom lip. Craig continued to smile at the couple in front of them, a vapid customer service smile that didn’t meet his eyes. Tweek had once said it made him look a bit like a sociopath. Good riddance, maybe they’d stop staring and load their groceries onto the damn belt.   
  
“I’m going to eat you out after,” Craig leaned in, whispering, a true whisper, into Tweek’s ear. Judging by the way his breathing abruptly stopped, and the fact that his wallet was now between his feet on the floor, Tweek had heard him.    
  
“Craig,” he whined, eyes cast down at the leather wallet. “Not here. Wait until we get home.”    
  
“Pick it up,” he goaded, voice rumbling, “so I can see your hot ass.”    
  
“Seriously?” A flicker of a smile dancing across Tweek’s features. It was quickly cast back into the stony annoyance he had worn for the bulk of their shopping trip.    
  
“Your ass is seriously hot,” he added with a snicker.    
  
“Whenever you’re ready to load the belt,” a teenager with a cheap plastic name tag huffed. Tweek scrambled to grab his wallet, banging his forehead on the handle of the cart in the process. Craig held eye contact with her, unblinking. He didn’t even bother to read her nametag.    
  
“Sorry about that,” Tweek rushed. “Just got distracted, that’s all. Sure it happens all the time. I work at a coffee shop and customers get distracted a lot, sorry to be that customer. It won’t happen again,” he turned to look, throwing a box of that veggie, not quite pasta onto the belt, “because I’ll come to the store alone.”    
  
“You don’t ever come alone,” Craig said, holding eye contact with the snippy teenager, not Tweek. “That’s something we do together.”    
  
“No,” he snapped, bending into the cart to pull out a bunch of bananas. Craig knew he ought to help him, after the teen broke the stare, but the view was nice, so why bother? “I am perfectly capable of coming alone,” he took a pause, then flushed, “to the store. Coming alone to the store.”   
  
“But it wouldn’t be as fun, would it,” Craig smiled, watching him toss items onto the conveyor belt with reckless abandon. He wasn’t even looking at the items, no, Craig could see his face when he turned towards the cashier, and his eyes were squeezed shut.    
  
It crossed Craig’s mind, that maybe Tweek would let him top, once they were home. He’d have to sell it a certain way, as exercise. The cardiologist wanted him to get more of that, and topping was certainly more involved than bottoming. It took a lot of persuading to get Tweek to give up his control, but as they strolled into the parking lot, loading groceries into their trunk, Craig believed he could do it.    
  
Especially after an enema.    
  


 

* * *

 

****  
  
  
“On the bathroom floor?” Tweek scoffed, mouth slightly open as Craig pulled the bottle out of the box. He unscrewed the cap and nodded.   
  
“Yeah, ass up, buttercup,” he snorted. “I can’t believe you’ve never done this before.”   
  
“Don’t call me buttercup, what the fuck?” Tweek hissed, eyeing the bathroom floor as he crouched onto the ground. “This is disgusting.”   
  
“It’s just your butthole,” Craig shrugged.   
  
“Not this, yeah, yeah this too,” he huffed. “The fucking floor. It’s probably coated in piss because you were the last one to clean and you’re a lazy bastard when it comes to cleaning.”   
  
“I am not,” he said, even though, indeed he was. As Tweek tried to get situated on his knees, Craig remembered that he hadn’t even mopped the floor, he had wanted to get back to putting together a model tank.  “But you can have a towel, if you want.”   
  
“Get it for me,” Tweek grimaced as his hands touched the floor.  
  
“I guess you can be a little bitch,” he joked, throwing a towel at his husband from the linen closet. He wasn’t listening as Tweek complained about being hit in the back, it was a towel, it’s not like he was hurt. He was just bitching for the sake of bitching, he did that when he was nervous.  
  
Tweek situated himself on the floor, jeans and belt still on as he rested his head and forearms against the towel. Craig rolled his eyes, like he could give him an enema with his pants on. He set the bottle on the counter, groaning as he leaned over him to unbuckle his belt. It would have been more seductive, if Craig wasn’t struggling to stand upright as he yanked the jeans around his knees.   
  
“Ready?” Craig asked, inserting the tip of the nozzle into his anus. The only answer was a jolt and a squeak from Tweek. “You have to hold it for fifteen minutes, just like this.”   
  
“What?” He asked, trembling a bit in place. “No way. Give me the box.”   
  
“Who’s the one who has had an enema before? Is it you?” He taunted, squeezing the bottle as Tweek squirmed beneath him.   
  
“God,” he moaned, “that’s cold.”   
  
“Looks pretty hot,” he smirked, slowly collapsing the cheap plastic bottle. “Presenting your ass to me, like this.”   
  
“Craig,” his teeth were clenched as he finished the enema off, haphazardly tossing it into the sink. “Not now.”   
  
“Now is such a great time, though,” Craig chuckled, deciding to sit next to Tweek’s face. “I’m going to eat you out until you come after this. It’s gonna be soooo nice.”   
  
“It hurts,” he turned his head to look, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I need to go.”   
  
“You’ve got to wait,” Craig pushed, a hand tracing over Tweek’s bloated midsection. “You can do it.”   
  
“Nu-uh,” Tweek’s mouth was closed, eyes growing wide.   
  
“Sure,” he rationed, “you’re so strong, aren’t you. You can hold it just a little while longer.”   
  
“Accident,” he squealed, voice something akin to when they were kids.   
  
“You won’t,” he murmured, running his hand through his wild blonde hair, detangling a knot as Tweek tried to steady his breathing.   
  
“I will,” he clenched his teeth.   
  
“Thirty more seconds,” Craig reassured, removing his hand from his hair and rubbing the pad of his thumb along his cheek bone. “Just thirty more, okay?”   
  
“Okay,” he relented, knees shaking.  
  
“You’re doing so good, baby,” he cooed, fingers dancing near his mouth. He half expected Tweek to bite him, but instead he kissed them, twice. “So proud of you,” he continued. “I’m so proud of you, doing such a good job. We’re going to have such a good time after this.”   
  
Craig could swear that Tweek’s dick was swelling. He tentatively reached out, thumbing the head gently. He gasped, shooting daggers in his direction.   
  
“Get out!” He shouted, rising to his feet and hobbling to the toilet.  
  
“What?” Craig asked in a daze.   
  
“Get out!” He swung his hands out, crossing them back and forth rapidly, fingers splayed. “Get!”   
  
“Fine, fine,” Craig walked out of the room. Purposely moving slower than his usual glacier walking speed.   
  
“Fuck! It hurts and I need to go!” He wailed as Craig drew out shutting the door.   
  
He heard Tweek groaning, and then, by the sounds of it, sobbing, as he leaned against the frame. After about a minute or so, he decided it’d be best to lay on the bed, and mindlessly watch TV. That way Tweek wouldn’t accuse him of listening to it happen. He would anyway, but this way he could claim to be watching the television.  
  
If he compounded the embarrassment too much, Tweek wouldn’t be willing to have sex. There was a fine line between him blushing beneath Craig’s grip, and Tweek screaming not to be made fun of. One was hot and the other was a bit of a nightmare.   
  
He watched half an episode of NCIS, no really following the plot. The team would get the bad guy, they always did. And the bad guy was never the suspect they had after the first commercial break. As he lost himself in the comfortable repetition of crime dramas he heard the toilet flush, twice, and the shower flip on.  
  
Lazily he took of his tee shirt, throwing it in a ball against the folding doors of their closet. He sucked in his gut to unbutton his pants, contorting on the bed to get them to slide down off of his waist. He kicked them to the floor, too tired from the chore of peeling them off to chuck them across the room.   
  
As removed his underwear, white atrocities that were comfortable, but Tweek once said made him look like a sitcom dad getting the mail in his robe, the door opened. With a towel wrapped around his hair in a mock turban, Tweek raced to the bed, collapsing face first onto the pillows.  
  
Craig leaned over, wordlessly, pressing a kiss into his shoulder blades. He was still soaking wet. He hadn’t even bothered to towel his entire body off, and something about this, maybe it was the childish anticipation, made him laugh.   
  
“Shut up,” he groaned, pressing his face into the pillow.  
  
“You’re just so eager,” Craig growled, sliding down towards Tweek’s knees and parting his ass cheeks.   
  
“Something not terrible to look forward to is nice,” he accommodated Craig, spreading his legs in a deep v.   
  
“I’m hungry,” he breathed against his backside, nose touching the base of his spine.   
  
“We ate before the store,” Tweek complained, kicking a foot up to hit Craig in the back.   
  
“I meant for ass, Jesus. I was trying to be sexy.”   
  
“It wasn’t sexy,” Tweek huffed, letting his legs fall back down. “I don’t even think I like this.”   
  
“Pretty sure you do,” Craig argued, then tentatively licked around the muscle.  
  
“Christ,” he exhaled, legs closing around Craig’s body.  
  
He licked again, this time a bit longer and with more force. He pulled back, spat, as Tweek so often did to him when they were out and about, and in the mood, but without lube. He was hawking something in his throat when Tweek kicked him again, shaking his head.  
  
“Don’t you dare.”   
  
“Fine, fine,” Craig relented, “but only because you’re ass is so cute.”   
  
“Stop,” Tweek keened, the muscles in his back tensing.   
  
“It is,” he persisted. “It’s so perky,” he grabbed both cheeks in his hands and forced them upwards. “It doesn’t deserve the abuse it takes, really.”   
  
“Just do it!” Tweek shouted, legs reared up to kick again.   
  
“Do what?” Craig asked, prepared to be hit with an onslaught of blows.  
  
“Eat me out!” He screamed, dropping his legs as he sighed into the pillow. Craig chuckled, planting a mostly dry kiss on each hip.   
  
“Only because you ask for things so nicely,” Craig joked, lapping his tongue over the muscle again. Tweek’s breath hitched as he bucked upward. Craig took the opportunity to move his hand to Tweek’s dick, which was already hard. He pumped slowly, without much purpose or determination as he slowly teased him into a relaxed state.   
  
“Nnnn,” he moaned, pressing himself harder against Craig’s face. He bit back a thought about his impatience, instead deciding to plunge his tongue into his anus, probing the best he could as the muscle clenched against him.   
  
“Fuck,” Tweek groaned as Craig’s hand sped up. “Feels good. Good.” Craig nodded, hoping he could feel it as he became more aggressive with his hand and his tongue. Tweek writhed on his knees for a few minutes, and Craig imagined him to look as he did when he was receiving the enema. Fragile, vulnerable, so different from his daily life.  
  
His knees started to shake as Craig began to grow tired of pumping his hand. Tweek’s noises only grew louder, from mewls to growls, to demands that Craig finish what he started, God damn it.   
  
He kicked both feet up as he came, pulling Craig down on top of him, crushing his arm beneath them both as he slowed his pumps back to the lazy pace he had started with. Tweek mumbled things too fast and too low for Craig to understand.   
  
“Was it good?” Craig asked, pulling away from his ass and yanking his hand towards his torso.   
  
“Not good enough to do that shit every day,” he complained, rolling onto his stomach. He beamed as the towel that had started around his head unfurled around him.  
  
“Hah,” Craig snorted, crawling up towards the head of the bed, to see that indeed, the suspect in the TV show was not the man they had earlier.  
  
“What’s funny?” Tweek frowned, using the towel to wipe come off of his stomach.  
  
“Shit and a enema? Thought you did it on purpose.”  
  
“Jesus Christ, you’re impossible,” he groaned, shaking his head slightly as he pressed his wet body against Craig.   
  
“You’re just butthurt,” he laughed, loudly. “Get it? Because of the enema?”   
  
Tweek did not share if he got it or not, he went to sleep, leaving Craig to masturbate as a new episode started. 


End file.
